Prince Harry, Emma Watson and Kevin Spacey have all made it into Tatler’s
exclusive new 'Little Black Book’ - and so have I.

Pride is a difficult emotion for us Brits. I can count on one hand the occasions when I have experienced it. The odd academic achievement, the time a website lauded me as someone with impeccable manners, winning a drunken tennis match in heels with one hand in my shorts pocket. The inventory is meagre.

However, this month has presented me with an opportunity for unadulterated ego. For, yes, dear reader, I have appeared in Tatler’s Little Black Book, aka its annual inventory of Blighty’s most eligible. Or – just to drive the point home – what its current cover refers to as: “175 of the hottest, funniest, cleverest, richest, sexiest & most adorable people. You won’t just want them – you’ll have to have them. Right now!”

That’s Prince Harry, Elle Macpherson, the boys from One Direction, Emma Watson, Kevin Spacey and yours truly. For the love of God, I appear opposite The Wire’s pulchritudinous Idris Elba. I am looking into having a T-shirt printed.

When the magazine’s deities invited me to its Little Black Book bash – held at Annabel’s and billed as an occasion upon which no one would be forced to sit next to anyone’s tedious partner – I assumed it was in my capacity as a journalist. It was only a few days later that the revelation struck, as the first attacks of jealousy surfaced. Viz: “Christ, B, you’ve made The LBB despite being a state-school educated, Brummie scumbag.”

Life has taken a distinct upward turn. The picture may be terrifying, but the description is officially The Nicest Thing Anyone Has Ever Said About Me (something about being a wild card cross between Dita Von Teese and Dorothy Parker). Plus the magazine has me down as someone in their thirties (I am 40). As my sister Florence remarked: “Do they know you? I mean, really, have they met you?” A “friend” added: “For wild card, read 'no discernible castle’.”

In fact, The LBB has subtly evolved since its beginnings under Jane Procter’s editorship in 1995. If it is more socially inclusive, then it is also more accepting in terms of age, sexuality, ethnicity and rebounding divorcé/es. It was wont to be largely 20-year-old deb-types, with the odd thirty or fortysomething thrown in. Today, it is a socially revealing reflection of the fashionability and fluidity of Britain’s singles scene.

Politician can rub shoulders with posho, farmer with fashionista and footie player, while a mother and her daughters can appear on the same list (Catherine Hesketh and Co of the Guinness clan). The Little Black Book reflects our – increasingly single and happily so – age. That said, dashing former Beirut hostage Charles Glass appears in both 1995 and 2011, in his capacity as quite the most amusing chap to be chained to a radiator with.

Glass apart, single life has changed since 1995. Then, saddo Bridget Jones was the single icon. Today, it might well be Tatler’s editor Kate Reardon: brilliant, beautiful, the poster girl for a generation of men and women for whom single equates with success.

Interrogated regarding the selection process behind the coveted list, Reardon remarks: “Obviously, this is a committee of highly trained, skilled individuals whose identity forever has to remain secret. It’s an enormously long process… and we have operatives conducting reconnaissance at almost all times.” The shroud of mystery only adds to its allure.

Too much mystery, according to some. Miffed by the “faux pas” of her lack of inclusion, “poet, photographer and fashion editor” Amanda Eliasch blogged: “Whatever does a girl have to do to be on this list? … I am luckily single, well-dressed and attractive enough to have a dinner invitation from several delicious single men. Surely, having gone to most of the best of the rest parties, nearly all of the best funerals and some OK weddings, this is enough to make their list? Obviously not.” Yikes.

For those of us fortunate to have been blessed, The LBB is a delicious bit of fun. My brothers-in-law were ecstatic at the opportunity to fantasy-football/cherry-pick me a beau. We liked the look of Fred Castlereagh and George Barker, long-term swoon Bill Nighy, and almost-young-enough-to-be-my-son rapper Tinie Tempah.